The thruth. [ for you ]

twelve

If you wonder how much I think about cutting, a lot. But I dont do it. I never do it. I can't. If I see my friend, who cutted herself, and how much she regrets it. I cant. If I think back at the time she told me she did it, how I felt, I dont want to make people feel bad for me. If you cut deep enough, you'll get a scar. If you got a scar, you can't go swimming or something, people will judge you soon enough.

But I still think about it, read books about it and 'dream' about it.
I'm so fucking broken.
I can have a nice day, with smiling and laughing and having fun. But every night, I lay in my bed and I'm so fucking sad. I hate myself.

I feel fat. Since I dont sport very often anymore, because it's winter break, I feel so fat. Going to a swimming pool, where are so many girls having a pretty belly, doesn't help. You know, if you hold your belly in long enough, you'll get used to it. I have experience. I think about being fat but I still eat. Why? I dont even know. I fucking hate myself for doing it.

How many tears do I have left, I've already cried so much. Every song I try to listen, it only hurts more. I end up crying myself to sleep.

Gosh, what you can hide.